Good George the Third was sitting on his throne—
His limbs were healthy, and his wits were sound;
In gorgeous state St. James's palace shone—
And bending courtiers gather'd thick around
The new made monarch and his German bride,
Who sat in royal splendor side by side.
Pitt was haranguing in the House of Lords—
Blair in the Pulpit—Blackstone at the Bar—
Garrick and Foote upon the Thespian boards—
And pious Whitfield in the open air—
While nervous Cowper, shunning public cares,
Sat in his study, fattening up his hares.
Sterne was correcting proof-sheets—Edmund Burke
Planning a register—Goldsmith and Hume
Scribbling their histories—and hard at work
Was honest Johnson; close at hand were some
Impatient creditors, to urge the sale
Of his new book, the Abyssinian tale.
Italia smiled beneath her sunny skies—
Her matchless works were in her classic walls;
They had not gone to feast the Frenchman's eyes—
They had not gone to fill Parisian halls:
The Swiss was in his native Canton free,
And Francis mildly ruled in Germany.
Adolphus reigned in Sweden; the renown
Of Denmark's Frederic overawed her foes;
A gentle Empress wore the Russian crown;
Amid the gilded domes of Moscow rose
The ancient palace of her mighty Czars,
Adorn'd with trophies of their glorious wars.
Altho' the glory of the Pole was stain'd,
Still Warsaw glitter'd with a courtly train,
And o'er her land Augustus Frederic reign'd;
Joseph in Portugal, and Charles in Spain—
Louis in France, while in imperial state
O'er Prussia's realm ruled Frederic the Great.
In gloomy grandeur, on the Ottoman throne
Sat proud Mustapha. Kerim Khan was great
Amid fair Persia's sons; his sword was one
That served a friend, but crush'd a rival's hate:
O'er ancient China, and her countless throng,
Reign'd the bold Tartar mighty Kian Long.
America then held a common horde
Of strange adventurers; with bloody blade
The Frenchman ruled—the Englishman was lord—
The haughty Spaniard, o'er his conquests sway'd—
While the wild Indian, driven from his home,
Ranged far and lawless, in the forest's gloom.
Thus was the world when last yon Comet blazed
Above our earth. On its celestial light
Proudly the free American may gaze:
Nations that last beheld its rapid flight
Are fading fast; the rest no more are known,
While his has risen to a mighty one. |